Toxic
by Antana
Summary: Being a nation that didn't exist any more, having no home and no boss, tended to make one go a little... batty.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Toxic

**Pairing: **NorwayxPrussia

**Disclaimer:** We *all* know that Hetalia belongs to Hidekazu Himaruya...

**Warning: **Oh sheesh, where to start. Rated _M _because of character death, rape and torture. There's also mentioning about concentration camps.

**A/N: **Okay, first, I have have wanted to write a NorwayxPrussia fanfic for a little while now. Though I am a DenNor fan, I also think NorPru (PruNor?) needs moar lurve! ... though maybe not _this _kind of love.

- This is the result of an old Naruto fanfic from 2003 and Toxic by Britney Spears... and late nights. I also tried a different style of writing; I have both Norway's and Prussia's point of view, mainly because I couldn't decide which POV I wanted.

- Both of the two characters are _very _out of character, which is also the point. I wanted to write a fanfic where Norway isn't this blank individual and Prussia isn't all about his _awesomeness _(we all know he's awesome after all).

This fanfic might not be everyone's cup 'o tea, but as always I appreciate reviews and constructive criticism ^w^

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"GILBERT!"

Only a handful of actions were ever able to make the Norwegian loose his cool mask. A half of those could make him angry. One tenth of the remaining sent him into a blinding rage. He could cope with the Dane destroying his doors a hundred times over just because Norway wouldn't answer him. He could cope with Alfred mistaking him for being Sweden over and over and over again. But, when Prussia kidnapped Iceland and made Norway chase them around the world, it made the Norwegian pissed. Enough said.

Norway had caught them in an old forgotten bunker in Egypt. The Prussian paused, making the few loyal soldiers stop behind him, and smirked. Being a nation that didn't exist any longer, having no home and no boss, tended to make one go a little... _batty_.

So, then in his free time, he had begun to think of other things to occupy his time. Revenge for example. Gilbert was no longer a nation... so why not take out his anger on a nation that had _everything? _Money, language, culture, development... a promising future. Yes, he was responsible for killing the Norwegian boss. And he had painted his message on the Norwegian door. And now, he had taken the thing Norway treasured above all. His precious brother. "That is my name, don't wear it out," he rasped with a smirk.

"I'm going to rip you apart!" Norway roared uncharacteristically, but a careful listener could also detect the pain behind the anger. He was as good as devastated. Having awoken one day and finding his boss dead by the ex-nation's hands, and then the second day his beloved brother was abducted... it had left his country in turmoil. Norway was going to finish Gilbert with his own two hands... but first, he needed to get Iceland to safety.

"Whatever it is Iceland has done towards you, I will take the responsibility for it. Please, just let him go. He is still so young! Take it out on me!" His blue eyes flew to the bag one of the soldiers had slung over his shoulder. Judging by the thrashing, it contained a desperate Iceland. But no matter what he did, he didn't succeed in gaining an inch of freedom, or harming his captors in any way.

A moment passed before the albino turned around. "You think this is about you, brat!" he snarled. "But it isn't. It's about _them _who tore apart my land, dividing it amongst themselves without having a second thought about me!" He found it amusing that the young teen still tried to escape the bag. It was impossible, the material was made of plastic and leather; all it would cause was the loss of the Icelandic nails. Not that Gilbert cared. "I'm just starting with _you_," he continued, "and my revenge on _them _will come regardless of this little pest's fate."

"Let him go, Gilbert, you coward! He hasn't done anything towards you!" Norway was indeed close to panic. He was worried about Iceland, so worried! They were brothers! They couldn't remember the days when they passed the days without knowing of each other. Norway had promised not lot let anything happen to his brother, and look at him now. He shouldn't have let Iceland sleep alone in his house, he shouldn't have said goodbye after that meeting, and he shouldn't have he shouldn't have he shouldn't have...

"Let him go, and kill me then! Don't tell me you are afraid he will run...?" Norway knew the Germanic countries held their head high regarding their fighting abilities. Few of them could withstand an insult aimed right at their pride. Norway hoped it worked this time too, he would gladly offer his life in exchange for Iceland's.

Gilbert reacted with a guffaw. He held his pride and waved the soldiers to stand close behind him. In his possession was something few captors managed to maintain: a cool mind. He couldn't afford losing his cool exterior in a situation like this. He never could. He would everything necessary to achieve his goal. If he needed to fight dirty, then he would gladly do so in order to win. Winning was winning, regardless of method or means.

"Heh," he smirked. "There is no sport in killing a little kid, despite my amusement at catching him and making you follow me all the way to Egypt." Then, his expression turned three notches darker... "You have failed as a nation. First with your boss, and then your brother... I wonder, will you be able to live with yourself knowing that you have _failed_?"

With another wave of his hand, the soldier holding his hostage held the bag high into the air. The other three remaining equipped their muskets from their back, and pointed at the bag with their bayonets inches from the thrashing hostage. To kill, one might have suspected Gilbert to order the musketeers to fire, but Iceland was not granted such a merciful death. Instead, the musketeers began to stab the bag with their bayonets. Hard and swift thrusts, no regrets and no mercy.

Blood started quickly to pool freely out of the small holes, and Gilbert moved to stand under the bag as he still faced Norway. A malicious smirk was on his lips as he let the river of blood dye his white hair red, stain his Prussian blue uniform and eventually gather in a dark crimson pool around his feet. Once the soldiers retreated, Gilbert threw his head back and laughed. _Failed_.

The worst about this macabre scene was not the sound of sharp objects stabbing delicate skin; it wasn't the increasing, desperate movements of Iceland. It was his screams. His brother's scream of pain and agony filled the Norwegian's head and made him sick. And then, the screams ended along with the thrashing. Nothing moved inside the bag anymore... it was just the outline of a limp body.

Norway felt... nothing. His mind refused to process what had just happened. It had to be fake... Gilbert was just messing with him. Iceland was surely somewhere safe, ready to bounce forth and hug him and then mock him for being tricked so easily. His eyes moved to look at the ex-nation. His hair was crimson, just like his eyes. The pale skin of his face and neck had turned red. His uniform was now coloured black, with only a few patches of the original Prussian blue colour where the blood hadn't stained it. Blood was still flowing freely down his boots... the dry sand was hungrily absorbing the liquid.

Norway's breath became ragged, and he began to tremble. He slowly began to feel again, though he soon wished he could lock them away. His emotions slapped him hard in the face, and the Norwegian could feel himself lunge his smaller body towards the larger ex-nation. His mind was an absolute mess. Never before had the Norwegian felt so... _murderous_, so intent on ripping, tearing and hitting every inch of Gilbert he could reach. Not even in his Viking days. Iceland was dead... Iceland was murdered. Oh, Eysteinn... Norway would never forgive himself for this. He had failed. _Failed_.

Before the OOC Norwegian could reach him, Gilbert stepped forward to tackle the smaller nation to the ground. His revenge on the Icelandic was complete; the warm liquid that was trickling down his neck and down his back was the evidence. Oh, what lovely evidence it was... He pinned Norway down, but the smaller nation was giving him a hard time. He was cursing the ex-nation's name to the stars and to his old, forgotten Norse gods as he kept on thrashing wildly around. With glee, the Prussian saw the similarity between him and his brother.

"Leave us." He ordered the musketeers. They didn't question his orders, they never did. Just took the bag with them, and left quietly.

In his rage, Norway saw the soldiers leave with the bag. A small stream of blood marked the ground as they walked. What would they do with the body? Toss it away in the desert? Searing hot pain sunk its claws into his broken soul as he fought desperately for his freedom. It was _his _brother, and he needed a proper burial! Norway kept struggling, fully embracing the old Viking instincts. Gilbert had to die. Now! He had to pay for what he did! His arms tore out of Gilbert's grip and his hands clawed angrily at the ex-nation's bloody neck. Oh, his fjords for Denmark's axe...

Gilbert sat up and jerked his upper body aside to avoid the Norwegian's fingers. "Be still, _Norwegen_!" he snarled and grabbed at Norway's hands. He managed to curl his fingers around his left, and slammed it down into the sand. Norway's other wrist was caught seconds later. Gilbert straddled the Norwegian waist, smearing the navy blue sailor top with Icelandic blood. "Poor, poor little Norway..." he taunted slowly, his thighs gripping at the Norwegian's hips. "All alone with no one to protect... not that you did any protecting here."

The blood. The blood was everywhere! Norway could feel the liquid being absorbed into the fabric! It was itching! He wanted to tear off his shirt and toss it away, but with his hands secured, he couldn't do anything but to let his fear of the blood turn into harsh words. "You will pay for this, Gilbert! You will drown in your _blood_, you soulless fucker! You really think others will stand by and let you walk freely? Do you? I will make sure you are hunted down! You will never be able to draw breath without knowing we will be after you!"

Gilbert had to hold both of the Norwegian's wrists with one hand as he pulled out a long chain from one of his many pockets. However, it order to chain Norway properly, he needed to get into another position. In one swift movement, he had moved his lower body in order for his knees to pin down his hands. As his hands were now free, he quickly looped the chain around Norway's left wrist before repeating the action with the right. "I'm shaking with fear." He replied dryly.

Despite the best wriggling and shaking Norway could muster, he could not remove the chains from his hands. But that didn't mean he was defeated, oh far from it! His life was over, more humiliation wouldn't count anyway... Denmark... Denmark would be happy when it was Norway that called him, instead of vice versa. His mobile phone was inside the pocket of his pants. If he could only get something to press against the touch screen, preferably quick dial... (yes, he had Denmark on quick dial).

Oh yeah, hadn't Gilbert forgotten something? After making sure Norway's wrists were bound, Gilbert trailed his hands down the Norwegian's frame. Ah, there. He slid his fingers down his new captive's pocket and fished up his phone. "We can't be having you calling friends now, can we?" It was a rhetorical question, and he proceeded to crush the phone under his foot. The sun shone through the entrance of the cave, reminding the Norwegian of just what he was denied. Even if Norway actually managed to escape, he had to cross the desert to reach the nearest city... that would take him days.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" he growled. "To lose everything?" And with that, he stood up and brought Norway up with him. He then proceeded to shove him with all of his might backwards into the cavern wall. This night was going to be so much fun...

Norway kept on trying. He summoned all the strength he had left and tried to deliver a few kicks towards Gilbert, all the while he kept on cursing the ex-nation. However, it was for naught. Through it all, his intensity was fading. The events started to catch up on a deeper level, the grief from the loss found its way into the deeper parts of his mind. It was slowly numbing his mind and body. Gilbert _had _to pay. But Eysteinn... Eysteinn would never come back.

"It's over, kid! Give it up!" Gilbert teased as he slowly advanced on the Norwegian. His body carrying itself with a grace long dead to the world, despite the blood was starting to dry on his skin. His white hair clustering together in small, red pigtails, he could lick his lips and taste the coppery taste. "Your brother is dead." He stated, "pain and torment awaits you. After I finish with you tonight, you can rest assured knowing that Denmark, within a week's time, will be mourning the horrible death of Sweden and Finland." It brought small shivers down his spine just by thinking of it.

"Just what are you trying to achieve, Gilbert?" Norway asked quietly as he supported himself against the cave wall. "This won't bring your country back, this won't bring your boss back and certainly not _Kaliningrad_! You may be able to even kill Denmark, but then... but then you _will _be hunted down and be killed in the same gruesome way you handled Icela..." His voice broke on the name. His vision was blurring as tears filled his eyes, and he could feel a sob building in his throat. "Do whatever you want with me – it doesn't matter anymore."

"Why don't we find out?" Gilbert snickered as he bended down to pick up the end of the chain. "Because, well..." he purposely trailed off as he tossed the end of the line over a broken piece of the cave some two meters above their head. "It may not bring my country back, and it may not bring Old Fritz back," again he paused to loop the chain back over twice more. "It certainly won't bring _Königsberg _back and it will mean my end. It is all very true..." Gilbert then pulled hard, hoisting the Norwegian's hands above his head. "But it will make me feel... a whole lot better about the situation." He sauntered over to Norway, twirled the loose end of the chain around the Norwegian's hands to secure it. "After all," he continued as he eyed the pale Nordic, "If I've stepped over the line, I might as well run the whole mile."

Norway laughed bitterly. "You have gone mad," he spat as he pulled at his chains. But it was for nothing. The chains held, and so did the stone over him. But still, he had to try. "World War II is over. The Cold War is over. The Soviet Union is no more. _Prussia _doesn't exist anymore. And yet, here you are. An ex-nation chasing illusions."

Now this caught his attention. "_Chasing illustions_?" he repeated and let out a dark chuckle. "Heh, your grief provides such eloquence, Norwegen! But please tell me, how you can call _this _an illusion?" At the emphasised word, he ran a finger down his own neck. He then proceeded to hold his hand up to show the still soaking redness in the rays of the setting sun. Gilbert positioned himself before his fair headed prisoner, smearing blood down his cheek. "Because it seems so very real to me."

Norway felt his eyes widen, and let out a squeak. He tried to move as far back as he could, but the chains gave him little room for movements. Oh please, no... The drying blood was cold, but Gilbert's finger was warm as he felt it trail down his neck. It was completely disgusting, and he felt a wave of nausea roll over him like a wave but he wasn't going to throw up. However, if Gilbert was going to walk around covered with the blood of his brother, his efforts to withstand torture were going to be put to a test. And he felt so tired. He had burned a lot of energy in the past ten minutes and now he wished he could just curl up and _die-_ no. Not yet. He wanted to take a shower, and then borrow Denmark's axe... then, he would chop the albino into tiny pieces. Starting first with his _vital regions_.

"Gå vekk, din drittsekk!"

"This is... vaguely reminiscent of the other Norwegian casualties I have caused," Gilbert mused out loud as he eyed the frail Norwegian body, deciding just _where _he might start later. "Human blood and nation blood are two entirely different things," he continued as he ran his bloody tails around Norway's neck and watched in satisfaction as the small hairs rose. "But it smells just the same. Which I'm sure you have noticed already."

The Norwegian looked quite handsome with blood trails all over his face and neck. "I think it has quite a nice scent," he paused to inhale with his nose to emphasise his point before continuing. "However, something that smells less pleasant is the scent of burnt flesh. Wouldn't you like to know just _how _I found out...?"

This was not making it easier for Norway at all. The... _casual _way Gilbert talked about his experiences told Norway just how many the albino had killed. It was disgusting. "So, it is true then. You stationed yourself in an extermination camp during WWII!" He tried his chains again, but this time, he wanted to know if the rock could support his weight... which it did.

A cackle escaped the albino's mouth. "Ah, yes. _Das Vernichtungslager_. It was absolutely amazing just _what _a commander could get away with in KZ Auschwitz-Birkenau. And no one stopped me." He smirked at his prey that was fighting feebly for his freedom. It was almost cute. He placed a hand under Norway's chin, forcing him to look into his crimson eyes. "And no one will be here to stop me this time either. I can assure you, this will be the longest night of your life."

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*Nervous laughter* Yeah.. right... uh..

**Glossary:**

_Norwegen _- Norway (German)

_Gå vekk, din drittsekk _- (litterally) go away, you shitbag (Norwegian)

_Vernichtungslager, das _- extermination camp (German)

_KZ _- Short for 'Konzentrationslager' (concentration camp) (German)


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks to all who favourited and alerted this fanfic! It brings so much joy to me knowing that you all like this thing :3

I know I'm late with the update, but I've been playing KotOR I and II and was at a time terribly addicted (shame on you if you don't know about KotOR!) =w= Anyway, I beat the games so here you go! Enjoy moar torture x]

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Oh... his body hurt. His legs, arms, abdomen, head... and the funny thing about this were that Gilbert hadn't tried getting any information out of him. He had merely played, _enjoyed_, the Norwegian's agony. Norway did his best, of course. He kept his lips shut, refusing to give the albino the pleasure of seeing him scream but a whimper might have escaped without him noticing. Like when the pain was threatening to cut off his consciousness, or when Gilbert was playing dangerously between his legs. But the ex-nation was an expert in his job. Whenever Norway lost his consciousness, he brought him back and continued with his twisted fun.

Now, the Norwegian was actually happy to feel his arms pulled by his own weight, seeing as his legs were too weak to hold him up any longer. Pain was still lingering, but compared to what he had to endure earlier, it was welcomed. He forced himself to look up and take a look around, searching for his captor.

Gilbert had thoroughly enjoyed the pain he was causing. It was admirable though, how silent Norway was. Very rare was it that the albino was treated with a truly tough being; all too often had he been presented with a stony-faced captive who spat out strong words, but broke within five minutes. He was an established interrogator. He had learned most of it during WWI, but had refined it into an art during WWII. He knew all too well how to _kill _someone and bring them back to the world of living, or keep them alive for days and days and days and days, not allowing them to die.

During the night, he had talked to Norway. He described in great detail the days he had spent in Birkenau, how he had given his prisoners a small flicker of hope, only to be replaced with an animalistic fear when the gas door closed behind them. He even told the Norwegian about his occasional breeding exploits in the past, during which he had slept with a female human, only to have her and the offspring killed later. Yeah, he was as sick in the head as any self respecting ex-nation, despite seeming somewhat normal. But then again, who knew what was wrong and what was right?

He had at some point left to give a message to his soldiers, confident in his restraints. An hour, or maybe two, passed with slow monotony until the tall shadow of the albino alerted his captive of his return. He put down the two buckets of water he had brought with him, careful not to spoil anything.

"Back so soon, murderer?" Norway's voice was quiet, but he was still radiating defiance. He had searched deep within himself and embraced his old Viking-self to endure the night. But still, those haunting stories Gilbert had told left their marks. Even now, Norway could feel his insides twist and turn, accompanied by an occasional wave of nausea. But the worst about this entire ordeal was the fact that he found himself listening to Gilbert's deep, rumbling voice. His mind even acted on his own, conjuring up images, to match the words. Many things could be said against the ex-nation, but he certainly had a way with his words.

Gilbert, at the time, had indeed taken notice. He observed his prey with malicious intent, noting every change. It didn't matter how subtle it was, Norway had been far less adamant about ignoring him during the stories of his pleasure exploits. "I would not leave such a delicious piece of Norway hanging around for the hounds to take," he said. "You are still mine until I'm finished with you!"

He picked up the sponge from one of the buckets, gave it a light squeeze and watched as the water fell back into the bucket. "I wonder, shall I continue where I left off...?"

"Hrmph. Do whatever you want. _Du vil aldri kunne knekke meg_." The Norwegian was smiling. So what if he died here? It didn't matter, if he were allowed to see Iceland again. He eyed the water cautiously with one good eye and a swollen eye. What, was the albino going to drown him? In the middle of the desert? The ex-nation was more insane than he had previously thought.

Gilbert's laughter echoed. "I'm not trying to _break _you, foolish _Norwegen_. Obviously you've yet to figure that out." He gently ran the moist sponge over his hands, watching as the skin was cleansed of the dried blood. "I don't want anything from you."

This time, it was Norway's turn to laugh, albeit not as harsh as Gilbert. "Apart from good entertainment? Oh, I'm sure I'm providing that now, am I not?" He shifted, standing up. Some of his energy seeped back by now; he felt his legs being able to support his weight, relieving the tension of his arms. It was a welcomed relief. Luckily, nations didn't tire as easily as humans did…

The albino smirked before dropping the sponge back into the bucket. At some point, he had gotten tired of the dried blood all over him. It was beginning to smell in the heat, and sand and dust stuck to his uniform like Hungary to her yaoi novels. "Oh, I was very entertained… and I still intend to be entertained. _Then_, I suppose, I will let you go to run off to your little offended friends so you can cry and tell them what the bad, bad Prussia did to you." Even himself was amused by the way he said it, and he chuckled under his breath as he lifted the second bucket.

A sponge would take way too long, so instead he decided to turn the second bucket upside down over his head. The water wasn't as cold as he had preferred, but few things stayed cold in the desert. Once again, he felt his body soak as the water washed over him. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, and ran a hand through his hair before the water stopped flowing. There was no way all the blood would wash off, but it was a start.

Norway didn't bother to answer. Half of what the malicious albino was saying would be true. Once he was free, he will run back to his friends and tell them what happened. But he was not going to cry. He _never _showed emotions in public, and he wasn't going to start now.

He watched as the water embraced the ex-nation as a transparent shield before hitting the sand. Tainted coppery water was hungrily absorbed by the sand under his feet. Norway felt a cold hand clutch his insides once he realized that the bloody water was probably the last thing he would ever see of Iceland. And he was suddenly painfully aware of the blood on his clothes and face.

Utterly unafraid of his captive, due to Gilbert's complete control of the situation, the albino didn't hesitate to remove his uniform, exposing his shirt and (slightly outdated) boxer shorts. Then, he hoisted the first bucket over his head and let half of the containing water wash over him, before putting the bucket down. His white shirt had gained a pink tinge to it, but it didn't matter. Now relieved of the heavy Prussian jacket, Gilbert took the sponge once more, and began to clean himself.

So much water… where had Gilbert acquired it? Gilbert had been gone a little while but he couldn't have walked all the way to the nearest town. After Norway came to Egypt, it took him an entire day to cross the desert to find this cave. Had his soldiers met him halfway? Without spilling the water? An impressive feat… He swallowed absentmindedly, and was reminded of just how dry his mouth was.

He hadn't eaten or drunk anything since his boss was found murdered… which was… hmm… four days ago? Or maybe five? He couldn't remember. All that he wanted now, was a mouthful of the water left in Gilbert's bucket. Was it selfish…? Maybe… but he was prepared to live with guilt if he could only drink away the sand and dust in his mouth.

And amidst all of this, Gilbert found himself humming. It was the Emperor's hymn about Kaiser Wilhelm, and although he favoured _der alte Fritz_, the Emperor's hymn was one of his favourite songs. Yup, he had gone crazy, that was the only explanation. Not that he cared of course. He cared for nothing, and death didn't scare him. And judging by his willingness (or at least assuming of which) to let Norway go after he was finished, showed that he didn't give a damn if the rest of the world came after him. They hadn't cared what happened to him after his country was divided amongst his _friends_, so why should they do now?

He turned his head to look at his captive, whose eyes were on the bucket with water. Maybe the nation was thirsty... what a shame. "You want something?"

"Not from you!" Norway rasped before he could stop himself. Surely, Gilbert would only use it against him if he declared his deepest longing for water. "Not that you would care anyway, you heartless freak!" He clenched his jaws and stood proudly, despite the malicious look Gilbert gave him.

The albino seemed to pout sadistically. "I'm hardly heartless..." with that, he slowly unbuttoned his shirt to expose his pale chest before approaching the Norwegian. Since his hands were preoccupied, Gilbert instead pressed his chest against Norway. The Norwegian's navy top and blue collar had been ripped to parts during the night, so that the only thing that prevented skin-on-skin contact was a sleeveless shirt.

Gilbert was taller than Norway, not to mention stronger, and he prevented the Norwegian any escape by putting his own hands around his back. "You feel that?" he murmured as he rested his chin on Norway's shoulder. "My heart beats, just like yours do."

Norway turned his head away from Gilbert, and tried to wriggle his body out from Gilbert's grasp, but to no success. And then, he made the mistake to stop and feel. With his eyes closed tight, the albino's warm breath tickling his neck, he could _feel _the ex-nation's heart.

A nation's heart _was_ the nation. Without a heart, the nation weren't able to survive for long. How Iceland the nation was going to continue to exist without Eysteinn was still a mystery to Norway... but how _Gilbert _was still alive with a beating heart _without _a nation was an even greater mystery.

Norway was also aware of the fact that a nation's heart was almost sacred. It was the greatest gift given to them, and also the greatest gift one could receive – the sign of complete trust and deepest love. Bosses and superiors could form alliances and break alliances, but that was surface-only. A union between two hearts was very intimate and very personal. It was the one thing bosses didn't control, hence the importance of its freedom.

For Gilbert to walk over to him and make Norway feel his heart just like that, was considered very vulgar... at least to Norway. But despite this, he could still feel Gilbert's heart beckon and calling for his own. He could feel his body melt with Gilbert, before reality finally kicked in. "Whore," he spat.

Oh, oh, but the Norwegian was just _throwing _ways to torment his attacker. Just offering them up and making it worse for himself – Gilbert was in heaven here with this foolish kid. The bloody water bothered him, the stories bothered him, feeling the ex-nation's heart when it should never have been felt in the first place _bothered _him... and Gilbert knew it. He tilted his head, so that it was now his cheek resting on Norway's shoulder, thoroughly amused by the term usage. "Am I?"

With no layer of armour it would be so easy for the Norwegian to finish him off... and because of the close proximity; Norway wouldn't even need a weapon. But, unfortunately, the Norwegian's hands were bound and secured. Gilbert let his hands caress Norway's back in a loving manner, as he stuck out his tongue to give the pale Norwegian neck a tender lick. "Am I now?"

"You are the most despicable being I've ever known! You are insane, how do you live with yourself?" Norway sneered. "Your mind is all messed up, did you fell down the stairs as a child?" The insults helped a little, they eased the tension. No matter what his people said, English was a creative language.

And, he was not about to admit, that his own heart, hidden well behind both physical and mental barriers, was slowly starting to ache with longing, wanting to soothe another, unite with it and share the pain. A union was not _just _about simple bodily pleasure. When two souls united, they interacted as well, soothing, healing, comforting another.

Inches away, Gilbert listened as Norway spat useless insults at him. Telling him he was insane was as monotonous as telling him his hair was white or silvery. But still, he continued to caress his Norwegian prisoner and pressed their bodies even closer. He realised, if he were to achieve his goal, he needed to pursue the Norwegian and not let him escape. "What is your real name, _Norwegen_?"

"None of your bloody business," Norway replied poisonously, trying to block out any of Gilbert's words. But the steady, comforting beating of the ex-nation's heart wouldn't let itself be ignored... it didn't matter if it was located in the enemy's chest... "I'm not even sure why you try. You obviously can't comprehend anything... why the hell would I tell you my name?" Oh surely the albino could already feel the Norwegian heart longing, but that didn't mean Norway was going to serve his most precious possession on a silver plate.

A heart was a heart, wasn't it? Even if it belonged to an insane ex-nation that had more than likely twisted it to be black as night. It was still a heart. Gilbert pushed the Norwegian back against the cavern wall with the chain barely allowing it. "I comprehend perfectly," he breathed into Norway's ear, watching with a glee as the Norwegian shuddered.

"You don't want to tell me your name because it is personal, hm? I'm sure only a few of your closest friends knows of it... the Nordics I would presume. And as a true Norwegian, you loathe to have others know your most personal details because it can be used against you in a situation you don't control. That is why you also keep your emotions to a minimum in public. To control the situation." He smirked in triumph and paused melodramatically to let the words sink in. "But you don't control the situation now, _Norwegen_, I do. I also know just _what _you desire of me the most at this time, which is almost unbearable for you..."

Norway took a sharp breath and tried once again to wriggle his way out of Gilbert's grip. But with his back against the cave wall, it proved useless. "Get off of me, get off! This is gross! Like I _desire _anything of you, well, maybe except your head on a stick... or your soul in my hand!" Still, he couldn't keep his heart from speeding up; the adrenaline rushing through is veins... Gilbert was _not _right. He _couldn't _be right... it was all lies, lies!

Gilbert's hushed, gravelly voice turned into snicker, which escalated into a hearty laughter, and then three layers of madness was added into the laughter. No. He wasn't sane. He would never be again, not even if his country was given back. But he didn't have his country... he had only Norway. And he knew exactly what to do...

His lips began to caress the pale Norwegian neck as his hands began to tear on the sleeveless shirt. His skin felt so smooth to touch, just like the finest porcelain, but it lacked the coolness. Norway was not used to the heat of the desert; he belonged to the crisp mountain air and the salty wind that caressed the long shore of his nation. Being trapped in the desert for two days had given Norway a permanent blush to his cheeks and his skin was moist from the heat. But it only served to make the Norwegian even more attractive.

A small squeak escaped Norway's lips and he began immediately to twist and thrash around in an attempt to gain some proximity between him and the albino. But he could still feel Gilbert's soaked hair occasionally brushing against his shoulders and neck as the ex-nation moved up along his jaw line. It was torture. No matter what he did, no matter what he tried, Gilbert still held him firmly. "Let me go!" he squeaked helplessly.

And then, something shifted. It was a weird, unknown sensation to the Norwegian and somehow he knew Gilbert had sensed it too. _Faen..._

It wasn't something that could be physically felt by any of the two; it was more a change of atmosphere between them. And Gilbert was pleased. _Very _pleased. He let the sleeveless shirt of Norway be, and instead slid his arms around Norway's neck. "It's funny... I could kill you in an instant, kid, but that isn't what you're afraid of, is it?" the haunting voice crooned, almost caring, almost loving... if it weren't for that sick, twisted undertone that was reminiscent of boiling black; a demon, or the first hint of Ragnarok. "You fear something else, something far more _personal_ hm?"

That was it. Gilbert knew too much about him, it had to stop right now. Norway curled his fingers around the chain, then, letting the restraint take his weight, he brought his legs up with as much force he could muster, kicking into Gilbert's abdomen. "Get away from me!" Norway roared defiantly.

Thad had been wholly unexpected, and as such, the albino took the attack without defence. He was knocked back, his arms lost their grip around Norway's neck and he landed heavily in the sand on his back. He blinked. So! Norway hadn't broken yet after all! _Verdammt_, Gilbert rose to his feet, ignoring the feeling of sand glued to his still soaked clothes, and stood to face his captive once more. "Can't be having that, _Norwegen_," he purred, a pair of red eyes looking maliciously into Norway's blue. "Now can we...?"

* * *

Did I just make a cliffhanger? OH NOES!

Well, rest assured... the update _should _be up in a couple days. And let's see if I can get the two out of the desert!

**Glossay**

_Du vil aldri kunne knekke meg - _you will never break me (Norwegian)

_Der alte Fritz - _old man Fritz (German)

_Faen _- a shortening for _fanden _(the devil), but in English the translation would be something similar to "fuck" (Norwegian)

_Ragnarok _- the end of the world according to Norse mythology

_Verdammt _- damn/damn it (German)


	3. Chapter 3

Yes, I'm late with the update, I know I know! But I've been stuck in Germany for four days without internet! I finally arrived in Italy two days ago and was first now able to get internet access. So it's not technically *my* fault this update is late D:

As ever, thanks for all those who favourited and alerted this fanfic! Geeze, judging from all the spam I get when someone favourites/alerts fanfics, I think there's over twenty alerted now :3 Wee, it's so fun when you like what I write ^^

Ve~ Enjoi!

* * *

Norway was shivering and glaring... that was all he could do in his current state. But, he was up for a fight, to his last air intake! He would _never _submit to that filthy abomination! He would fight for Denmark, Sweden and Finland. He would fight for Sealand – though he hadn't known him for long... but most of all, he would fight for Iceland. Eysteinn, his brother.

Unfortunately, Gilbert had been tormenting others for millenniums. This... while valiant, was nothing more than a temporary setback. He sauntered back to his uniform jacket, rummaged through a pocket, to find a three meter long rope. He turned to face his captive, absently running the length between his pale fingers, he stalked around Norway in a slow, wide arch. Never entering the kicking range.

"I do wonder," he mused aloud, steadily moving behind the Norwegian. How do you plan on kicking me when I'm behind you?" Without waiting for a reply or realisation, he darted forward and pressed his chest to the other's back, the chain looping across the front of Norway's ankles. He swiftly looped it twice, no doubt without a fight, but yanked hard to pull them tight.

No matter how much Norway squirmed, the Norwegian's legs were now secure. His slender body was shaking with anger and, although it wasn't apparent... with fear. He closed his eyes shut and wowed that he would not let his tormenter take his heart. He would rather die from pain, but he would never be defeated by sheer brutality. Treasured moments, forever immortalized, started to reply before his inner eye: Finland's constant happiness and easygoingness, Sweden's gentleness, Denmark's constant bugging and Island's hand in his own. It looped over and over again, until he could almost hear Denmark's voice asking him to go with him to the pub...

Now more safely secured, the albino straightened up and walked back around to the front. "I will admit, my respect for you grows by the second." Gilbert was genuinely impressed. It was _rare _for him to encounter valiance and courage of this kind... _but _was it real courage or was it fear...? Getting close once more, the psychotic ex-nation returned to his position before his captive, and put his hands on Norway's chest. ... _thump thump... thump thump... _"Give it up. Open up for me and you're free. _Free_."

Norway's eyes opened immediately, and he tensed. Free? Free to go? Free to race back and warn the others... save his friends from torture and death. Only a moment after did he realise, that it was surely an empty promise. But, he had noticed, hope is so hard to kill. "You will... let me go?" he asked quietly, watching the other's expression, trying to sense if Gilbert had meant what he had said. "If I comply, I'm free to go...?"

"Submit to me," Gilbert hissed in reply, "and the chains come off and I step back. No strings attached..." He slid is arms around Norway's neck again and brought their faces so close their noses almost touched. He could see the Norwegian having a hard time by the look in his eyes.

The close proximity didn't bother him as much as it should at this moment. Gilbert's crimson red eyes were staring into his own blue, and he could see the albino was being honest. But still... this didn't make any sense. "Why?" he pressed, feeling the confusion cloud his mind. "To make me feel worse? Torture me, taint me?"

"You look into things far too deeply," Gilbert breathed in return. "If you aren't up for this, I will leave you hanging here and go kill your Nordic friends. The choice is yours, _Norwegen_, and I don't have all day."

Something shifted between them again. The atmosphere became less... tense and more... ah, it was so hard to describe. Norway had never felt _anything _like this before, not with Denmark, not with Iceland... not with Sweden or Finland. Suffice to say it didn't feel as if Norway was in the desert anymore, it felt as if the two of them were stuffed inside two bubbles. And they were floating effortlessly in the air, the only thing separating them was the transparent, soapy substance.

Triumph; it was a feeling that as of the past few weeks Gilbert had felt very little of. No matter how many humans he killed, he never felt as though he were winning anything, but now... at last he was getting what he wanted. The albino had gained a little purchase in the ever sickening world that was his mind, for here, he was in control.

Now, he could how Norway's mental barriers were already removing layers and layers of protection. And judging from the Norwegian's confused expression; he had never done anything like this. A tiny malicious smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. He was Norway's first... wasn't that cute? He brought their chests even closer together as he stripped away his own layers of defence without any difficulties. Feeling Norway's heart in such a state felt almost euphoric... "Now who's the whore?"

"You," Norway replied immediately before turning his head away. What was he supposed to do now? He could feel Gilbert calling for him, wanting to comfort him... but Norway had no idea how to proceed, and no doubt the ex-nation had noticed. But, to Norway's defence, baring his most sacred possession to an enemy wasn't what he did on a regular basis...

Gilbert's patience was a paradox; when on missions, he could sit in the precise same spot for days and never move or be bothered in the slightest. But then there were days in which five seconds to receive information from one of his soldiers was five seconds too fucking long. Here, Gilbert was slowly losing his patience for Norway to get ready. He knew how it was to be young and inexperienced, and knew that bullying the Norwegian at this point would only make his goal skitter farther away.

However, when he noticed the younger nation hesitate, how could Gilbert refuse the silent plea for help? At least to his twisted mind, Norway was calling for his aid. And he was so _happy _to oblige. He gently trailed his fingers up against Norway's chest, watching in satisfaction as small hairs rose, and continued to trail his fingertips up against Norway's neck... slowly, slowly... he placed a hand under Norway's chin and gently turned the Norwegian to look him into his eyes. He could see fear in those blue eyes... but it wasn't a fear for his life, it was fear of the unknown. Without hesitating, Gilbert closed the distance between them, his lips pressed against Norway's.

Norway stiffened immediately, and was so distracted by the albino's tongue that he for a moment forgot where he was. Sure, he had been kissed a lot in his days, most of them given by Denmark when he wanted to tease the Norwegian. But those kisses were never more than a peck, their lips barely touching. It was nothing like _this, _so full of passion... and longing. He was fascinated and slightly scared at the same moment. Nevertheless, it didn't stop Gilbert's tongue from entering his mouth. Norway felt chills racing up and down his back and shuddered slightly as the albino ran his pale hands through the Norwegian's blonde hair.

Again, something shifted. He could see Gilbert sitting on the other side of the bubble, his hand eagerly outstretched towards the only fragile soapy wall that kept them apart. Norway felt his own hand stretch out towards the ex-nation. It felt weird. Gilbert was the enemy, _enemy_, he had killed his brother in cold blood... yet it was so... peaceful. And his emotions were warring again, making him craving the other's embrace. Suddenly, the tip of his forefinger touched the bubble, and it burst.

It was just a tiny _touch_, but it was there, the slight burst of feeling that rushed through his veins and left him tingling. Gilbert supposed the Norwegian was right; being an ex-nation, without a land and boss in a world that was constantly changing, made it difficult for him _not _being a whore. The albino was accustomed to being exposed, so it didn't bother him, especially now when he had power over the situation. Most he didn't. Russia, on more than one occasion, forced him along into this, but it was never peaceful. It was forceful, it was violent and it, more often than not, hurt like a bitch. But there was also pleasure there, which kept Russia coming back for more.

Norway stared at Gilbert. There was no transparent wall between them anymore... then, Gilbert spread out his arms towards him with a face that revealed nothing. It was impossible to hold back anymore. Norway threw himself into Gilbert's embrace. The heat from the contact... it spread out, first warming up his chest, then his entire body. Norway could feel himself whining for more, more contact, more touching, more of something familiar. As if the hearts, belonged to a bigger whole, and they would have wanted to unit. They searched for each other, and who was the Norwegian to say no to their wordless plea...?

Gilbert felt Norway respond more and more to his kisses, kissing him fiercely back as he desperately tried to arch his secured body closer to him. Gilbert let go of Norway's face and instead put them around his slender neck, bringing them closer together, encouraged by the occasional moans and whimpers that escaped the Norwegian's mouth. Their bodies were mashed together so tightly that barely air could even get through. His teeth claimed Norway's lower lip and gently pulled and nibbled in a slightly distracted manner.

Norway mewled and instinctively tried to pull his arms around Gilbert's neck, except they were still held secured by the chain. He tried once more to pull them free, but it was for nothing. He continued to respond hungrily to everything Gilbert did, wanting more... _craving _more. Then... what the hell was he doing? This should have been so good, so sweet... but it was. He could feel himself curling up against Gilbert inside the bubble, sobbing freely with the loss, throbbing with guilt, begging for consolation. He couldn't mind the teeth anymore, couldn't mind the touches, couldn't mind who there were. His mind, at least the logic part of it, was pushed back, and his very soul came forth. And the soul only cared for the pain it wanted to be eased.

Gilbert's heart was heavy with its own pains and powers, its own battle scars and emotional wounds that he'd received and buried over the years. Having such a long life was both a blessing and a curse, for it allowed plenty of time for both pains and pleasures. Gilbert's heart did not move away but offered no resistance to the other as it curled against Norway. For him, too, it didn't matter who they are. They all came from the same place and their souls relished this feeling of familiarity. The albino stroked the other, hushing it, telling its own tales of pain that reflected a haunting similarity to the loss Norway felt, ones that could be lived past.

And it all progressed from there. Bodies ground against each other, one pale like snow, the other golden like the sun. Moans broke forth from their mouths; shivers ran through them, further chasing them towards the edge of bliss. Their souls and hearts felt to merge into one, both offering pain and joy alike and indeed, when shared, grief and sorrow halved, while the joy doubled. Norway felt his cheeks flush and his breath turn shallow. It felt so strange, so different... but so _real_. It was more real than anything he had ever felt. Then, he could feel his body stiffen as waves of pleasure rolled over him. It wasn't like _anything _he had ever imagined.

It was hard to imagine that this sort of thing felt so nice. It was supposed to be universal but somehow, even Russia could twist something as sacred as this into a violent weapon bent for pain rather than pleasure. Gilbert willingly contributed to the vocal expressions of pleasure, hands roving where they may for his mind was no longer in power. The Norwegian body still held secure, stiffened in his hold and Norway screamed, so delicious, tipping the albino into his own explosion of sensation.

The moment of perfect unison occurred – it felt as if it lasted for long hours – and passed slowly, as the sea pulls back after the tide. A few shivers ran over Norway's body, then he felt his strength leave his body and he collapsed in his chains. All his energy was finally drained... and it took a few moments for him to let go of Gilbert's embrace and crawl slowly over to his own bubble. His eyes were closed and he could only hear his shallow breathing.

The ex-nation stepped back from his prisoner and stumbled over to the opposite side of the cave for support. His heart was sealed away faster and more experienced in what he was doing, but that wasn't exactly by choice of course. He was still feeling tingly and a shiver ran down his spine now and then, his breathing was shallow and irregular, but he slowly calmed. He glanced over at his captive, hanging limp in his restraints with his eyes closed. He was perfectly defenceless at the moment. So fragile and vulnerable.

Gilbert studied the Norwegian that he'd spent all night tormenting. The same man he had just united with; whose pain and pleasures he had shared and who had thusly also experienced his own. He deliberated and pondered if he wanted to indeed go through with his word... there were pros and cons to both. Keeping Norway here would not surprise the blonde, but letting him go...

When Norway finally regained his senses, he was supine on his back in the sand, free of restrains, the only source of light was a pale and white beam. He winced a little, noticing the still lingering traces of pain in his arms, and then tried to look around. However, it was dark, and the beam didn't provide enough light for him to see anything but dark outlines in the cave. For a few moments, Norway felt puzzled – what had happened...? But then, everything came back in a rush. His first thought was, that Gilbert was still here, and that he should run for it. Norway struggled to get up, his arms sore and stiff from the rough treatment, and he scurried backwards until his back hit the cave.

Then, the _why_ matched up – the macabre death of his brother, the pain he felt, the grief, the guilt, they all flared up... and then fell back, like disturbed water into the pond, creating rings on the surface, as the final part clicked into place – he had united with Gilbert. He curled up, drawing his knees to his bare chest and embracing them He learned much from that unification.

He had learned that, while Gilbert had indeed been stationed at Birkenau as per rumours, he had been ordered to do it by Germany's boss and hadn't wanted to. It had been a useless scare tactic and show of brutality – as far as Gilbert felt, it was a waste of time and his energy. The other stories were also, for the most part, fake... except for the ones he told of killing the human female and his offspring. That was true. But he had regretted it later and still, to this day, was not sure why he had done it.

Gilbert watched his captive quietly from the other side of the cave. Norway looked up, into red eyes. His own blue were filled with confusion – and Gilbert had a vague idea why. The ex-nation got a good look at the Norwegian's memories. How the black plague killed off two thirds of his population, how frightened he was at first, and what a relief Denmark's guidance provided. He saw real courage in the nation, shining brightly, and how his emotionless personality was the result of Denmark handing him over to Sweden for a piece of _Gilbert's _land while Iceland stayed behind. It had truly broken the Norwegian's heart, and had rebelled against Sweden to gain his own independence. Though he now had his own boss, and was an independent nation, he could still never forgive Denmark. He could also see a deep bond between Norway and Iceland, a deep bond so suddenly and violently severed. Norway's pain was still fresh and sharp. And yet, as he regarded the hated nation staring back, he couldn't help but to feel more pity for him, than anger.

"What have you done to me..." Norway whispered and curled up even more.

"I made you see." The answer itself was cryptic, and yet, there was some sense to it. Now Norway understood that there was no right or wrong, only pain. The albino was stranded on Earth – hell, he wouldn't even be getting paid for his centuries of years of hard fucking work.

"You saw, too, didn't you?" the Norwegian didn't make any attempts to get up. "You know." He shook his head. "We shouldn't have done this. Why weren't you heartless? It would be so much easier now..."

"Yes, I saw." Gilbert moved from his spot, stepping into the pale moonlight. "And we are never heartless no matter how much hatred and pain we harbour."

"You know what I mean!" Norway shrieked. "Why can't I honestly hate you now? You murdered my brother in cold blood and I feel for you! This shouldn't have happened!" He inhaled so fast the air stuck and he was thrown into a coughing fit. He was starting to feel dizzy.

"Hm," Gilbert replied and walked nonchalantly past his captive. His shirt in place, his uniform jacket over his shoulder. "And yet," he said. "I doubt you would say no if presented with the opportunity..." he turned on his heel, facing his former captive with a smirk. "... To do so again, _Håvard_."

At that, Norway rose and gazed up at his tormentor, his expression a lot more solemn. "Neither would you." Norway had figured Gilbert had learned his name through the union. And he wasn't sure just how much the albino had learned about him... but it was probably as much as he had learned about Gilbert.

A dark chuckle echoed in the cavern. "No. I wouldn't."

"And what will you do now?" Norway demanded. "Carry on with the plan?"

"Well now, that depends..." Gilbert continued his way out of the cavern. It was slightly chilly in the desert, but it was nothing he couldn't endure. "On whether or not you stop me."

"You know that if I get out of here, I will stop you."

Gilbert looked around, and found what he was looking for. A dark horse had been brought to him. "I think you have less of a chance at stopping me out there than you do right here and now," he smirked. "But you won't touch me." He took the red reigns of the horse in his hand.

Norway followed him out and watched, his turn to smile. "Neither would you."

"That's right. So here we are, stalemate, a draw; with Denmark's life at stake, or mine." Gilbert tilted his head to the side. "Problem is... death is not high on my list of concerns. Nothing is. So you know that I will go through _West _if I have to get to him and the others. Death would be a mercy, at this point. And I don't fear your little friends, _Norwegen_, for _you _are the only one fast enough and crafty enough to catch me. You asked about my plan, and yes, I will go along with it. I will kill, and kill, and tear as many families apart as I can before my demise comes."

"And so your revenge is complete." The Norwegian shivered. "I'll have to kill you..." he didn't finish, they both knew what that will result in – more pain, grief and guilt. Eventually – possibly – the very same madness, which consumed the interrogator. It was a cruel fate to look forward to. So in the end, the ex-nation had won.

Gilbert's reply was a quick and... eerily cheerful. "Yep! That's the basic plan. So, with that in mind," he trailed off as he mounted the horse. "_Ta ta_," without another word, the albino whipped the reigns and the horse started into a wild gallop into the desert.

* * *

There, I got them out of the desert, didn't I...? Sorta...?

As for the _uniting _part, I was inspired by spark-bonding from Transformers. I wanted to write something different from the whole intercourse theme which usually revolves around _M _rated fanfics and instead do something deeper. I'm still not sure if this was a success or a major failure xD

I found a name for Norway! I have always liked the name _Håvard_, and can't imagine Norway as a _Nils _type of guy. This is just my personal opinion of course :3


	4. Chapter 4

AN: *Insert apology for being late here*

I really need to stop saying I will update this thing, because I clearly can't live up to my promise. So here we are, around six months since last chapter, and all I have is a filler OTL Well, I'll see if I can get this story up and running again…

* * *

Egypt found Norway walking aimlessly in the desert. At first Gupta believed it was just another tourist lost, but when he came closer, he recognized the nation. By then the Norwegian was suffering from severe sunburn, the shirt he wore did little to protect his Nordic skin against the deadly UV rays, and an inevitable heatstroke. Gupta was shocked to see Norway in his desert... after all the ruckus Denmark had caused when he noticed his beloved Nor were missing, Gupta had believed the Norwegian had grown tired of the Dane and left to hide somewhere in order to have some peace. Never had he imagined finding him _here._

He was quick to dismount the camel and run over to the bewildered Scandinavian who immediately collapsed in his arms. Egypt was familiar with the symptoms of sunburn and heatstroke, and immediately wrapped his cloak around the Nordic.

"You have some guts walking around here," he grumbled as he hoisted Norway into his arms. Norway looked confused, his blue eyes looking at him without recognition. "And you just ruined my day... now we have to hurry you to the hospital." He mounted his camel with an ease and grace the Europeans could only dream of. With expert eyes, Gupta saw the clear signs of dehydration. Grunting in annoyance, he got the camel into action. Time was really of the essence now. It was far to Alexandria; but it was the closest city with a hospital.

He secured Norway and the reigns in one hand, while his other dug into his robes to find his satellite phone. He pressed it against his ear and waited impatiently for his boss to pick up. Once he had noted his boss about his discovery, his next call was to alert Alexandria main University hospital about their arrival.

During this call, Norway slipped into a state of such confusion he began to hallucinate. His eyes seemed to be fixed at a point through the Egyptian as he frantically called out for Iceland. As Gupta interpreted it, Norway was seeing his brother disappearing, for his cries became more and more desperate. He continued his cries until his body suddenly heaved, temporarily silencing the confused Norwegian as gastric acid filled his mouth.

Egypt frowned in disgust, almost feeling the urge to vomit himself, as he helped Norway sit up. As the desert "ended" and the city of Alexandria began, he could see several ambulances and medical staff waiting for him. He happily handed the sunburned Nordic into the waiting arms of the doctors. The Norwegian was given immediate emergency treatment at the spot, before thrown into an ambulance and driven to the hospital.

Watching the howling ambulance, Gupta wondered if he should call Denmark and tell him he had found Norway, but a medic turned to him and asked if he wanted a ride to the hospital. The medic had no idea who Gupta was, but obviously saw him as a friend of the patient. With a shrug, Gupta dismounted and joined the medics in the ambulance.

At the hospital, Norway was rushed into the Emergency department and into a _Staff Only _room. Though Gupta was told later by a nurse that the Nordic had slipped into coma. Needless to say, it was both good and bad news he told Denmark when he made the call. The Dane sounded relieved once he learned the location of his friend, but Egypt could hear the sound of his heart skipping a few beats once Denmark learned what condition he was in.

Denmark, Sweden and Finland landed in Alexandria International Airport the day after. After the doctors had reassured Norway was out of danger, the three Nordics drew three chairs around the unconscious Norwegian and waited patiently for their friend to wake up.

* * *

He woke up two days later, the sensation of blisters covering most of his upper torso provided a painful experience when he tried to shift. Finland rushed out to fetch the doctors, who in turn ushered the remaining two nations out of the room. Once they had deemed Norway fit for visitors, they opened the door for Denmark asking the other two wait for their turn.

Denmark carefully stepped into the room, watching Norway intently as if he was afraid he would disappear again. "I... uh..." The loud Dane was abruptly speechless once he laid his eyes on his best friend. His blue eyes and arms were covered by white bandages, a breathing mask covered his mouth, and the little skin visible was red and swollen. Various tubes went from his hands attached to small upside down bags containing a transparent liquid.

"How do you feel?" he eventually blurted out, mentally scolding himself immediately afterwards for ask such a retarded question.

Norway shrugged, and winced in pain as his sunburned skin stretched. "That bad, huh?" Denmark smirked, trying to ease the situation as he walked further into the room. "Listen, I..." the smirk disappeared and was replaced by a very rare serious expression. "We need to talk about Iceland."

He halted, fidgeting with his sleeve. "Eysteinn... I- _we_ have tried calling him, but he won't answer. Even after his island of a nation went haywire."

At this he saw Norway clench his jaws, but he remained silent. "Nor, I won't lie to you, it's a mess. Those volcanoes of his, Ejya-something-something, Katla, Askja and Krafla just had major eruptions at once. Most of the Icelanders have fled t- hey, you with me?" A monitor had begun to beep loudly; several doctors had rushed in moments after, while a nurse had asked Denmark to kindly step outside. Finland, and even Sweden, looked worried as the Dane exited the room and came walking towards them. He shook his head with a sigh and fell into a chair on the opposite side of the pair.

* * *

Egypt visited later, asking how Norway was doing. His question was met with three gloomy, worried and anxious expressions which provided a most suitable answer. He found himself a chair in the waiting room they had occupied and tried to tell them Norway was going to be all right. Only Finland seemed to truly believe him, Denmark had grinned and nonchalantly replied that _his_ Norge would never have the guts to die without his permission, but Gupta could see that the Dane's eyes told the opposite. Sweden didn't even try.

The fourth day after Norway's arrival, the doctors declared him stable enough to remove the bandages in the evening, but kept the breathing mask on.

When Norway opened his eyes, the light stung horribly in his eyes. He closed them immediately and decided that squinting was a better idea. Through small cracks, Norway scanned the room he was in. It was a hospital room... but how had he ended up here...? The last memory he had, was of heat, pain and an endless horizon of sand.

And just why was he in the deser- ... oh. _Oh_. Realisation struck him as the memories of Eysteinn and Gilbert resurfaced. He felt a cold hand grip around his heart and his breath hitched as his vision filled with tears. _Failed._

Oh God, why hadn't he died in the desert? Why had he been so weak? Why hadn't he waited for Denmark, Sweden and Finland to back him up? Why, why, why, wh-

"Norge...?"

A voice to his left made him open his eyes fully and turn his head. Denmark was sitting in a chair next to him, but judging from the lines in his face, he had rested his head on the bed. Norway hastily blinked away his tears.

"God morgen kære. Har du sovet godt?"

Denmark. _Mads_. Always a cliché ready whenever you need it. Norway only pursed his lips. "What time is it…?" he managed to rasp, his own voice sounding strange and muffled to his ears. "Err… I would say around four in the morning? The last time I checked it was half past one, but I fell asleep…"

Norway knew that Mads tried very hard keep himself from asking what he had done. Though he was sure Mads had seen the message Gilbert left behind. Norway actually felt himself appreciating the effort from the Dane… he wasn't just yet ready for questions of his rash actions.

"Hey, you okay? You want me to fetch the nice lookin' nurse for ya?"

Tears were dimming his vision and he blinked rapidly as he gently shook his head. He swallowed and grimaced in pain as he tried to keep himself from coughing. "Okay, jeez, just go back to sleep or something… you still look terrible. Not to worry though! I'll be right here when you wake up." He flashed Norway a charming grin as he put his hand on Norway's hand.

The touch stung to Norway, but he kept his mouth shut. For once not in a mood to argue, he closed his eyes but the image of the Albino wouldn't disappear from his mind.

* * *

The next sensation he felt was cold water against his bare skin. He could barely remember the trip to the great bathroom, and he couldn't even recall his clothes being stripped away.

Glancing to his left he saw a white clad doctor monitoring a screen, and to his left he saw a male nurse helping him sit down in the cold water. Though they had let him keep his undergarments on, he still felt a little awkward. Not to mention cold!

The sensation made him draw short gasps of air as he tried instinctively tried to keep his arms above the freezing water. When had he ever felt _this _cold? He, _Norway_, could easily put on his swim suit and go ice bathing in January.

"I know it is cold, but please try to keep your hands below the surface." The nurse talked softly with a heavy Arabic accent. Norway clenched his jaws to prevent his teeth from clattering as he slowly lowered his arms into the water. Why, exactly, was he here?

"W-w-why a-am I h-h-h-here?" he managed to stutter through clattering teeth. He focused his attention on the doctor monitoring the screen, now with a notepad in his hands, but it was the nurse who answered. "It is for the pain. Because of your third degree sunburn you need painkillers twenty-four seven. But, there are different forms of pain relievers. Cold baths, for example, not only has a cooling effect, but it also cleans your wounds."

"B-b-but c-c-couldn't it b-b-e a t-tad bit w-warmer?" Damn his clattering teeth, his speech was growing limited…

"Oh? And here I thought you Norwegians were cold resistant?" the nurse jested as he put a finger into the water. "Well, the temperature is just how it's supposed to be. You're only a little sensitive to temperatures because of your sunburn."

_Little sensitive_? Good grief, this water had to be below freezing temperature! He closed his eyes and focused on breathing through the nose. Slowly and gradually, he managed to still his clattering teeth. "Just relax," the nurse said softly, "lean back if that makes it more comfortable for you." Shifting his arms slightly, Norway experienced no pain. Exhaling in relief, he leaned backwards to rest his head on the edge of the tub.

He must have dozed off, because it felt like mere seconds after he had closed his eyes the doctor ordered the nurse to help him out of the tub. With water soaking the tiles, the Norwegian shivered slightly as the nurse slowly patted Norway's body with a soft towel.

Once the nurse deemed Norway dry, he helped him into a simple morning gown before heading back to Norway's room. To his surprise, Denmark, Sweden and Finland were waiting there for him.

"When did you get here?" he asked once he was back in his bed and the nurse out of the room. Denmark's eyebrows furrowed in concentration as his brain set into work, but it was Finland that answered. "Five days ago, the day after you arrived here."

What? He had been here for _six_ days? "Ah… but you have been unconscious most of the time," Finland added hastily as he noticed the confused expression of his friend. "You don't remember?" the Dane asked quizzically, "but the doctors said you were conscious a couple days ago, and you woke up in the middle of the night too. You don't remember anything of that?"

Norway shook his head. The first _real _memory he had since he saw Gilbert leaving him behind in the desert, was the cold bath fifteen minutes ago. Oh wait, _Gilbert_.

"We have tried to contact Iceland as well," Finland continued cautiously, "but he hasn't been answering his phone. Not once all these six days… but we just thought he is going through a really hard time right no-"

"What _really hard time_?" Norway interrupted, his eyes suddenly growing cold and hard. The three Nordics glanced at each other, as if they wondered who would have the guts of telling the tale. "I… told you earlier," Denmark hesitated, "back when you had your eyes covered and-"

"Get to the point." Norway deadpanned. Finland bit his lip and reached out for Sweden's hand. Denmark took a breath, before meeting his best friend's eyes. "The island is going haywire. It's even worse than we originally thought. It started with the largest ones, but as of recently the smaller volcanoes are showing signs of growing activity too."

Denmark looked at his best friend with the same rare serious expression he had used earlier. "The Icelanders are fleeing the country, Norge. Ash fills the air, airports all over Europe have shut down again, the glaciers are melting and the ocean level is rising. Some experts say it's only a matter of time before the country will be reclaimed by the sea."

Norway felt his head fall back to rest on the pillow. So this was the result of Eysteinn dying. The island itself would just cease to exist. He felt a lump grow in his throat, but he swallowed angrily and forced the tears away.

"My government have done their best to help the Icelanders seeking refugee, so have yours... but your government is, how should I put this... _struggling_." Denmark continued to look at Norway with a serious expression, his arms crossed. "Ever since your Prime Minister was murdered, your nation has been in turmoil. It appears they are unsure what to do, except having the police and Interpol search everyone and _everything_." The way he emphasised the last word told him clearly that his government was fumbling in the dark.

Norway closed his eyes. It was _too _much too early. He needed Iceland right now. Iceland would know exactly what to say to make him feel better... but Iceland wasn't here. And his murderer was still running free.

"Is that why you ran away, Håvard?" Denmark asked quietly. "Did you try to take on your Prime Minister's killer on your own...?"

No. _No_. He wanted to speak up, but he found his lips sealed and his voice withered away. "Mads," Finland said quietly, "don't start this yet."

"What?" the Dane replied annoyed, "I just want an answer as to _why_ the Egyptian police wanted me to answer their theories of Håvard being _kidnapped_ and _tortured_!"

_Say what_? Norway looked up at the Dane. "Yeah, that's right!" Denmark continued, his voice rising until he was standing on his feet, "they came right up to me yesterday, having been called by this hospital. Apparently, the medic team have noticed some very unusual bruises and wounds on your body. Around your wrists and ankles, for example!"

He nodded towards Norway's wrists, and the owner was quick to raise his hands. Denmark was right, red and violet contrasted greatly against his pale skin... how had he not noticed this earlier?

"You know what I told them?" Denmark continued loudly, his arms gesticulating wildly. "I told them I had _no idea_ what you had been up to. My best friend was in hospital in freakin' _Egypt _and I. didn't. know. why!" Denmark took a couple steps towards the bed, "You know for how long I've tried to find you? Nine days. For _nine _hellish days I had _no _idea where you were. If you were in need of help, if you were dying, if you had been captured."

Seeing Denmark like this was really strange. What had happened with his carefree happy-go-lucky friend? He hadn't seen Denmark like this since World War II. "And furthermore, I can't believe you ran away when your government needs you the most! Your _Prime Minister _was murdered, and you just left? Hell, if Eysteinn was here I'm just he would be just as angr-"

That was enough. How dared he mention Iceland now, in _this _context? Feeling his emotions burst through his carefully created apathetic mask, Norway - for once - gladly let it flow.

"But Eysteinn isn't here anymore!" He snapped, even louder than the Dane. "Yes, I left when my Prime Minister was killed but you don't recon I did it for a reason?" He poured every emotion he had locked up in one sentence. The sudden atmosphere drop left Norway with the sensation of the air _tingling _around him.

Denmark scowled. "Then why won't you tell us the reason – tell _me_ – why you left!" Narrowed cobalt blue eyes locked with cold cornflower ones, but it was Finland who broke the tension by standing up. "Where are ye goin'?" Sweden asked calmly, watching as Finland picked up his mobile phone. "Going to call Iceland again," he muttered back as he went through his contacts.

Norway winced and looked away from the Dane. "_What?"_ Denmark questioned, refusing to let his best friend escape from his penetrating gaze. "Eysteinn... won't answer."

"I'm sorry, _what_?" The Dane questioned again, his voice no more than a hiss. "How do you know?" Finland halted in his tracks, his left hand on the door handle, the right still clutching his mobile phone. He looked now even more worried. "Because Eysteinn is dead."


End file.
